


with garlands in her hair

by aeoleus



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nina Tucker Lives, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, bc HELL YEAH PARENTAL ROY MUSTANG, edwin but not the focus, fuck shou tucker all my homies hate shou tucker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoleus/pseuds/aeoleus
Summary: (“Nina’s alive.” Ed interrupts hoarsely, and Al startles, his crutch clattering to the floor.“W-what? No, no, Scar killed her-”“They lied.” Ed’s rubbing at the base of his throat, digging his nails into the reddened skin. “They- she’s been in a chimera lab in East City this entire time. Mustang found her. She’s alive.”)While performing inspections of abandoned state laboratories after the Promised Day, Mustang finds a familiar chimera that was reported dead over a year ago.Ed doesn't have his alchemy anymore, but that's not going to stop him from attempting to change Nina back. No matter what the cost is.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Nina Tucker, Alphonse Elric & Nina Tucker, Edward Elric & Nina Tucker, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 94





	with garlands in her hair

**Author's Note:**

> HI and welcome to "i decided nina didn't need to die": the fic. 
> 
> Huge thank you to @agentcalliope (ao3 and tumblr) for beta-ing!

Alchemy has a certain smell to it. 

That’s one of the first things Roy ever learned on Master Hawkeye’s estate, which perpetually smelled of smoke and burnt, crisp oxygen. Elemental Alchemy smells of ozone and sulfur.

Bio-Alchemy smells of iron. 

Iron and rot. 

Roy only allows himself a minute to curse the series of events that led him to standing in this hallway deep underground, the only light an emergency alarm flashing red.

Grumman had been so casual when he asked Roy to investigate the lab. 

“I’ve only just found the records for it,” he’d said, shuffling the papers on his desk as though he was requesting Roy get him a cup of coffee. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but there’s hints that it’s a chimera research laboratory, and we can’t have that, can we, General?” 

And Roy, idiot that he is, agreed to it. 

He takes a deep breath and turns back to Hawkeye, who’s got her gun drawn and face schooled into a practiced neutral expression. But it’s no use. Her eyes are a dead giveaway. Even with the dark casting half of her face into shadow, the smell of blood coating Roy’s nose, his mouth, his eyes, he can tell. 

She’s scared. 

“I don’t think there’s anything to shoot here, Captain.” Roy says. 

Hawkeye shoots him a look, her eyes flashing with annoyance, rather than fear, and Roy bites back a small smile. 

“Forgive me for being cautious, General, while we’re on the lower level of an abandoned chimera lab. How careless of me.” 

Roy raises one eyebrow. “You don’t have to sass me, Captain.” 

“And yet, here we are.” 

Roy sighs and turns back to the door they’ve been stalling in front of for several minutes now. The plain wooden door is unmarked, almost innocuous, but the smell emanating from it is strong enough to make Roy gag if he breathes too deeply. Something terrible happened behind it, and he’s seen enough desolation to not be eager for more. 

“Guard up, Hawkeye, “ he whispers behind him, and hears her flick off the safety as Roy shoves the door open, hand poised to snap at whatever beasts jump out at them. 

At first glance, the room is nearly empty. There’s a steel table shoved in the corner that looks like it’s been hastily wiped down. Smears of blood and other bodily fluids still stain the surface. The iron and rot overpowers everything else, and Roy pulls up his under-shirt to cover his nose while he heads to the table. 

  
Before he can take a step, Hawkeye snags his elbow. 

“Sir,” she says sharply. 

Roy turns and finds her staring into a dark, far corner, eyes wide. He follows her gaze, and the urge to gag becomes a full-blown dry heave that Roy forcibly shoves down, a talent acquired through years of drinking far past the point where his stomach would voice its disapproval. 

There’s a cage in the corner. Inside the cage lies an emaciated dog-like creature. Its golden-white fur is ragged and sheared in areas, covered in brown patches of dried blood and yellow pus, dripping from open wounds. 

But no, the creature had been killed over a year ago. There’s no way that this is the same chimera, it’s only a terrible coincidence that the long, dark hair that spills over the creature’s head is the same shade. 

Then the creature opens its wide, familiar, blue eyes and bares its teeth, snarling at Roy as he approaches, and they’re undeniably human. 

Or they were, at some point. 

Roy turns back to Riza, who’s staring at the creature with a mixture of revulsion and pain on her face. 

“It’s the Tucker girl,” he says, voice tight. “We need to call Fullmetal. Now.” 

* * *

Winry slaps Al’s hand out of the mixing bowl, and he pulls it back, at least having the decency to look half-bashful as he grins at her. 

“It’s got raw egg in it, Al!” She scolds, pulling the batter away from him. The phone begins to ring in the hall, and Winry hears Ed’s chair screech against the floor upstairs as he gets up to answer it. “What if you get sick?”

“Win- _ry_ ,” Al whines, leaning against his crutch. “I spent _four years_ not able to eat anything, and now that I finally can, you would deny me something so-” 

“What the hell kinda bullshit is he sayin’ now, Win?” Ed yells as he bounds down the stairs to the phone. 

“He’s trying to get me to let him eat _raw_ cookie dough!” Winry yells back. 

“Al! Raw egg could get you-” 

“Sick, I know, dear _God_.” Al grumbles, as in the hall, Ed starts talking indistinctly into the phone. “Will you two get off my back for three seconds? Just three? That’s all I’m asking.” 

“No,” Winry says sweetly, and even bats her eyelashes for good measure as she pulls out a baking sheet. 

Al huffs and falls into a chair with a theatrical sigh, throwing one skinny wrist over his eyes. “So mistreated. And in my own home…” 

Winry spares him an unsympathetic glance as she begins spooning out batter. “You know, anyone who’s ever said that Ed’s the more dramatic of you two has clearly never spent more than five minutes with you.” 

“Take that back!” Al gasps, mock-affronted. “At least I never wore three-inch platforms on all my shoes.” 

Ed appears in the doorway and Winry glances up at him, grinning. “Yes, we were making fun of you, in case you were- Ed?” 

His face is completely drained of color, and he’s staring at the door with a terrifyingly empty look in his eyes, hand moving to his throat as if of its own accord. 

“Ed?” Winry repeats. “What’s wr-” 

“Nina’s alive.” Ed interrupts hoarsely, and Al startles, his crutch clattering to the floor. 

“W-what? No, no, Scar killed her-” 

“They lied.” Ed’s rubbing at the base of his throat, digging his nails into the reddened skin. “They- she’s been in a chimera lab in East City this entire fucking time. Mustang found her. She’s _alive.”_

“Is she still-?” 

“Yeah.” Ed says, and finally jerks his eyes away from the door, looking at Al with a desperate fervor. “Al, I gotta go, I gotta- I gotta get her-” 

“I’m coming with you.” Al says immediately, standing up, and wobbles, hand flying to his head. 

Winry drops the cookie sheet onto the counter and runs forward to steady him. “You were sick like two days ago, Al.” She says firmly. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.” 

“She’s right.” Ed says. He’s already begun to pace up and down the room, and Winry can practically see the gears whirring in his mind. “I’m just gonna go get her, okay? I’ll be right back. I’ll bring her back. Al- I need you to get all my research together. Everything we ever took from that bastard’s house.”

“Research?” Winry asks, lowering Al back into his chair. “Ed, what’s going on?” 

Ed stops pacing, just for a second, and turns to face her, and fuck, Winry thought she’d never have to see the devastation that’s marring his face _again_. She thought they were done. 

But Ed is already moving towards the door, hands shaking, eyes wide. “Nina needs help. I’m gonna fix this.” 

* * *

Knox isn’t too happy when they show up at his door with a half-dead feral chimera and Roy’s hand dripping red onto the concrete, but he can’t exactly say _no,_ which is exactly what Roy was counting on when he made the executive decision to not get the government any more involved than strictly necessary. 

Grumman may be in charge now, but the process of rooting out everyone loyal to Bradley is still on-going. Roy doesn’t particularly want to find out how Fullmetal would react if Roy found the girl and then lost her again before he could get to East City. 

He has a nagging, irritating feeling that alchemy was really just a channel for Fullmetal’s power, and that the loss of it won’t make a difference in the damage he’s able to do, if he sets his mind to it.

The chimera is still sedated from the tranquilizer Riza had quickly found and administered at the lab so that they could pry its teeth out of Roy’s hand, so they get her transferred to an exam table without too much trouble. 

Knox glances once at Roy’s hand, declares he needs stitches, and doesn’t bother administering any kind of local anesthetic to do so. 

“This is what you get for having morals, Knox.” Roy grits his teeth as Knox seems to knot the last stitch particularly roughly, and begins to wrap his hand with gauze. 

“My life _would_ be easier if I didn’t.” Knox sighs and tapes the gauze in place. “If this gets infected, I don’t care. Don’t come to me.” 

“Your bedside manner is absolutely stellar, doc. Five stars. I’ll recommend you to all my friends.” 

“It’s a mistake for you to think I care about your opinion, Mustang.” Knox stands and discards his bloody gloves in the trash. “What’s with the chimera? Do I even want to know?” 

“Been held in a research lab for the past year,” Roy pulls back on his uniform jacket, glancing distastefully at his ripped sleeve. These things are so goddamn expensive. Maybe he can bribe Havoc into fixing the tears for him so he doesn’t need to buy a new one. “Need you to check it over and stabilize it as best you can.” 

“What for?” Knox grunts, but he’s already pulling on clean gloves and running his hands over the emaciated ribs of the chimera, seemingly checking for breaks. “Might be kinder to give it a big dose of morphine.” 

“Her.” Riza says in a clipped, controlled tone, and Roy looks up at her. She’s staring at the wall with a dead look in her eyes, jaw set, arms crossed tightly. 

“What?”

“Her. She’s a her. _Her_ name is Nina.” Riza says. “Dr. Knox, Edward Elric is on his way here, and I’d advise you to not say anything like that in front of him. It won’t end well for you.” 

“What does it matter to me?” Knox shrugs. He clicks his tongue and kneels in front of the chimera. “Creature’s been sorely mistreated. May not last regardless of what I do.” 

“Do what you can.” Riza sweeps out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

Knox looks up from where he’s crouched in front of the chimera’s head, running his hands over its misshapen skull. “I don’t remember your Lieutenant being so touchy.” 

“Captain.” Roy corrects automatically. He scrubs at his face with his uninjured hand. “She’s not touchy. This chimera was a child before it was transformed. Excuse me, I have a call I need to make.” 

Roy doesn’t slam the door behind him as he follows Riza, though he wishes he could.   
  


* * *

  
He finds a phone in the upstairs hallway, which is incidentally where he also finds Riza pacing. She keeps her eyes carefully averted from Roy’s as he dials the number to the Fuhrer’s office. 

“Ah, General, I was expecting your call.” Grumman sounds far too relaxed. “I was informed that you recovered Shou Tucker’s daughter?” 

Roy bites the inside of his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Yes, sir.” 

“Alive?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah.” There’s a drumming sound, as if Grumman is hitting his fingers against his desk. “That complicates things, doesn’t it?” 

“Sir, I have to ask.” Roy grips the receiver tighter, stares at the blood spotting in the shape of a crescent on the bandages wrapped around his other hand. 

“What is it, General?” 

“Did you know? About the girl? We were all informed she was killed at the same time Tucker was.” 

Grumman is silent for a moment too long. Roy’s stomach lurches. 

“I had heard… I had heard things,” Grumman admits finally. “But I wasn’t sure. And I couldn’t do anything about it until I got into power. General, I need you to understand that this _can’t_ get out. Imagine what the public will think if a brand-new government that’s just experienced a coup is found to have been hiding a little girl turned tragically into a chimera and using her for experiments for over a year. They’ll revolt on us.” 

Roy sorely doubts that, but keeps his mouth shut tight. “What would you have me do?” 

“She needs to be gone.” 

“Sir?” 

“I understand you’ve already called the Fullmetal boy.” 

“I have.” There’s no point in denying it. Ed’s likely to be here within the next quarter-hour. He’d already sent out Breda to pick him up from the train station. 

“I know of the boy’s alchemical prowess and that he intends to reverse the transmutation, but General, if this fails-” 

“I understand.” Roy interrupts tightly, before Grumman says something that makes Roy _really_ want to snap. 

“Do you?” Grumman’s voice turns cold. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then you have your orders.” 

The line clicks. 

Roy really thought that his days of being ordered to murder the innocent were over. 

His hands are shaking when he puts the receiver back in its cradle. 

Riza has stopped her pacing, and meets his gaze from the opposite end of the hallway. “Did you ever meet the girl? Before?” 

“Once.” Roy says. “When I went to get Fullmetal from that bastard’s house.” 

The child had been four at the most, hanging onto Fullmetal’s neck and giggling hysterically as Fullmetal had come to greet him at the door. It had taken Fullmetal five minutes to convince the little girl to let go of him so that he could leave, and when he finally succeeded, the child had raced to the window to shout farewells at them until they had driven away. 

The creature that lays downstairs' gaunt chest had been rising and falling, but that’s the only indication it’s still alive. Knox had to shear off portions of its long brown hair to treat wounds on its skull, and the bald spots, flecked with red, serve to only make it look more miserable. It had snarled at Roy, sinking its canines into his hand when he dared approach it, and hadn’t shown one ounce of ability to reason, nor any emotions other than fear and anger. 

Though that creature once was the child, it’s not anymore. 

  
It can’t be. 

Outside, the car door slams, and heavy footfalls hurry towards the door. 

“Are you going to tell him about the orders?” Riza asks quietly, straightening her shoulders.

“If I have to.” 

“He won’t do it, Roy.” 

The use of his name surprises him enough that Roy looks up. Riza’s face is hard. “I know.” 

“There’s not a chance in hell that he’ll let you do it, either.” 

“I’ll make him see reason. That-” He gestures vaguely in the direction of the clinic downstairs. “-is not the little girl he used to know. It’ll be nearly impossible to turn her back. Fullmetal’s emotional, but he’s smart. He’ll have to know that.” 

“Edward’s never let something as trivial as _impossibility_ stop him before.” The tip of Riza’s mouth quirks up. 

  
“He might not have a choice this time.” Roy says grimly, and goes to meet his former subordinate at the door.   
  


* * *

They’ve been keeping her drugged. 

That, almost more than anything else, enrages Ed to the point of wanting to stroll right up to Central Command and bringing it toppling down with his bare hands, fledgling democracy be _damned._

Mustang had told him that Nina’s alive, that Nina’s still a chimera, that Nina’s been used for experiments in a research laboratory for over a year while Ed was gallivanting around Amestris, and yet, that she‘s been tranquilized over and over like a feral animal too dangerous to keep awake is the one minor fact in a long list of far more terrible facts that makes Ed want to snap. 

Her skin is warped to her bones, and her legs look as though they wouldn’t support her weight if she tried. There’s bandages covering a majority of the injuries Nina has, but that’s not nearly enough to obscure the damage that’s been wrought on her. 

On the day of Nina’s fourth birthday, she’d fallen while chasing Al around the backyard and skinned her knee. She’d howled and howled until Ed had cleaned the wound and put a bright-pink bandage over it, but that wasn’t enough. 

“You have to kiss it, big brother!” Nina tearfully insisted. “Mommy said that’s the only way to fix it!” 

“Nina, kissing it won’t make it _heal_ faster-” Ed spluttered. 

“Ed!” Al scolded. “You have to kiss it!” 

“Fix it!” Nina wailed, and so Ed had dutifully leaned down and kissed the bandage, and Nina had, in return, thrown her chubby arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, tears suddenly dried, and the crisis had been averted.

Nina spent her fifth birthday in a cage. 

Ed’s stomach has been churning constantly since he’d gotten the call last night, but it lurches hot and acidic at that thought. 

“I’m gonna fix it, Nina,” he presses a kiss to her filthy forehead, holding his head to hers. “I promise.” 

He’s carefully working out the knots in her matted hair with his fingers, avoiding the sections still thick with dried blood, when Hawkeye walks in. 

She doesn’t say anything, just sits down across from him and watches him work, so Ed doesn’t say anything back. He manages to fix enough of the knots to pull most Nina’s hair back into a loose braid, and takes the band from his ponytail to tie it off. 

“What’s your plan?” Hawkeye asks. There’s no judgement in her voice, no pity, no condescension. It’s a welcome change from Mustang’s tone, which had been guarded and full of warning.

“Resembool.” His voice cracks. Hawkeye blessedly doesn’t mention it. “Al and I- we’ve got a pretty decent-sized alchemy library now. Between the two of us, we’re going to fix it.” 

“She was only awake for a few minutes after we found her, but Ed, she’s almost certainly in pain.” Riza says.

“I know.” Ed shuts his eyes for a second, tries to remember what her laugh sounded like. “Did she… did she talk?” 

“No. She bit the General. That’s why we had to sedate her.” 

Ed snorts, though it doesn’t feel funny. He’d seen the bandages on Mustang’s hand and assumed something had happened, but hadn’t been able to stomach asking. “Bastard probably deserved it.” 

“Edward…” 

Ed tightens his fingers around Nina’s braid and can only barely force himself to look and meet Hawkeye’s eyes. They’re solemn and slightly rimmed with red, as if she’s been crying, which is insane. Captain Hawkeye never cries. 

“I know you mean to do good by the little girl you used to know,” she says softly, “but please remember that there are fates far worse than death. Mercy isn’t always life.” 

Ed looks away, his throat closing. “I’m going to fix it.”

“Ed-”

_“I’m going to fix it.”_

Hawkeye is silent for a minute. “I understand.” She stands up and braces the back of his bowed neck. “You’ll do everything you can. I understand.” 

* * *

Nina wakes for the first time late that night. Ed’s got his head buried in the file Mustang gave him with all the information they could find on her in the lab when he hears a weak whimper. He shoots up and to her side as her big eyes are fluttering open. The relief that floods his gut at seeing her eyes- real, tangible evidence that she’s _alive-_ almost makes him dizzy. 

“Nina,” Ed whispers, reaching out a hand to smooth back the hair from her face. “It’s me.” 

Nina stares at him for a moment, blue eyes bloodshot and blown, and Ed’s so sure she recognizes him- how could she _not-_ before she snarls, lunges forward, and clamps her teeth around his arm. 

Hot, sharp pain immediately shoots up his forearm and Ed lets out a startled yell. “Nina, Nina- it’s me! It’s Ed!” 

A low, threatening growl sounds from the back of her throat, and her teeth sink deeper into his skin, jerking her head as if she means to rip him apart. Ed grits his teeth and wraps his other hand tightly around his arm. 

The door bangs open and Hawkeye comes in, gun first, Mustang on her heels and tugging on his gloves.

“STOP!” Ed gasps out, and holds out his other hand towards them. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” 

Hawkeye lowers her gun, but the hard look in her eyes doesn’t disappear as she takes in the scene before her. “I’m going to get Knox.” 

“Why, so he can drug her again?” Ed bites out. Thick, hot blood is beginning to pulse out around her sunken teeth, and Ed takes a stuttered breath, trying to force oxygen into his deprived brain. _Think, you idiot. She’s scared. She doesn’t know what’s happening._

“Fullmetal,” Mustang’s tone is warning. Ed ignores him skillfully, having perfected the craft over four years. 

“Nina,” he says again, and kneels so his face is level with hers. They’re still her eyes, big and blue, though the feral, wild fear in them is anything but. “Nina, it’s me. It’s Ed. Big brother.” 

Her eyes widen, if at all possible, and the pressure on his forearm loosens. 

“That’s right, Nina,” he says encouragingly, and tries his level best to keep the pain out of his voice. “It’s Ed. You’re safe. It’s just me, alright? You know me.” 

Her jaw falls slack, and Ed wrenches his arm out, shoving it wound-down into his thigh to stem the bleeding. 

“Big…” Nina warbles, voice spliced between two octaves- her high, childish whine, and Alexander’s low growl. “Big brother?”

Ed flinches, but forces himself to stay where he is “That’s right, big brother. That’s right, Nina. You’re safe now, alright? I’m not leaving you. I promise.” 

“Hurts..” Nina grunts, and shoves her snout against his uninjured hand. Her breath is hot, and there’s blood staining her teeth. “Big brother.. _Hurts!”_

“I know it does.” Ed says. Something hot drips onto his leg and Ed realizes that the blood has seeped through his pants. “I’m gonna fix it, okay? I’m gonna fix it.” 

Before Ed can stop them, someone comes up from behind and sticks a needle into the scruff of Nina’s neck, dispensing a thick liquid under her skin. Nina yelps in surprise and tries to squirm away, paws scrabbling weakly with the steel of the table, but the drug takes effect before she can, and she collapses down onto the table. “Big- big brother…” 

Ed stares at her half-lidded eyes, the awkward angle of her slumped head. “I didn’t want her drugged again,” he says numbly. 

Dr. Knox snorts and removes the empty syringe from Nina’s neck. “And I didn’t want any of you in my house. We all have things we want, kid.” 

“She doesn’t- she didn’t deserve that-” 

“It’s only temporary,” someone says on his left, and suddenly, Mustang is next to him, forcing his arm off of his leg and inspecting it, then wrapping it tightly with a dish towel and holding it over his head. 

The iron is settling in his mouth, in his throat, as the jittery adrenaline that had flooded his blood drops off suddenly and a heavy feeling settles in his head. 

Red trickles from the dish towel onto his bare arm, and the hazy, hot nausea that’s been churning in his stomach for nearly twenty-four hours suddenly reaches its tipping point. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” 

Captain Hawkeye shoves a waste-basket under his head just as Ed loses the meager lunch he’d managed to get down, and Mustang keeps a tight hand on his forearm. 

Hawkeye is almost gentle when she tips his head back and sweeps his sweaty bangs off of his face. “Done?” She asks kindly.

Ed nods with the last bit of energy he has, and she and Mustang maneuver him to a chair. The fluorescent lights of the clinic begin to make the steady tattoo of the headache he’s had for hours throb even harder upon his skull. Ed shuts his eyes tight.

Mustang unwraps his forearm, and the loss of pressure allows a pulse of pain to shoot up his arm. Ed bites his lip to stop the cry that’s trying to claw its way out of his mouth. 

“Think these need stitches, Knox. They’re nasty. Worse than mine.” Mustang says, sounding far away.

“Of course they do. You people only exist to make more work for me.” 

“Ed? You with us?” Riza’s voice floats in on his right.

“Mm-hm.” Ed forces himself to grunt. 

“Good,” Knox says, and something cold washes over his arm, again and again. “I don’t want to waste anymore of my drugs on you.” 

“Better me than her.” 

“Not sure your arm agrees.” The needle pricks his skin. 

Ed forces his eyes open and sees Knox tug his torn skin closed. He turns away and fixes his eyes on Nina’s form. On her chest, rising and falling with her continued breaths. 

Truth may have taken his ability to perform transmutations, but They, for some unknowable reason, had left his understanding of alchemy fully intact. Thank fuck for that, because he’s going to need every shred of alchemical knowledge he can get his hands on. 

Ed bites back a hysterical laugh. He’d always thought God was stupid for having made something that constantly aspired to outwit Him. 

Well, he’s already done it once, hasn’t he? For Nina, he’ll do it again.   
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is ta1k-less! Feel free to yell at me there. or here. whatever floats ur boat :)


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